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"The DA at the Justice Center can handle it, Kincaid."

"Nope.  It's my first arraignment on an agg murder.  I'm doing it

myself."

"Are the screens done?"

"They will be soon."

"All right.  Don't forget to call Duncan."

I didn't need to.  When I got back to my office, I had a voice mail

from Duncan's secretary asking me to come down to his office.

Terrific.

He had seen the press conference.  Even worse, he had gotten a phone

call from Dennis Coakley.  Dennis must have slept on it and woken up

even angrier.

I tried to calm him down by telling him about the Jackson arrest, but

the distraction proved temporary.

"What exactly did we talk about in here yesterday?"  he demanded.

"Duncan, I know you're upset, but please don't talk to me like I'm in

kindergarten."

"When you act like a child, Samantha, you get treated like a child."

I couldn't help it.  I exhaled in a way that might have sounded like a

scoff.  "I can't believe you actually just said that.  Does anyone

really say that?"

"Watch it, Sam.  You're a good attorney, but I won't have my people

talk to me that way."

Threatening to fire me was the typical trump card around here, but now

I had one of my own.  "Or what, Duncan?  You're going to fire the woman

who almost got killed last month on the job because she ruffled some

feathers trying to find the madman who's snatching women off the

street?"

"Don't even think about playing that game with me.  Next thing you

know, you'll be the talented young attorney who was never the same

after that shooting."

The entire time I'd worked here, I'd always caved when it came down to

the last shove.  If I was going to stick around, it was time to set

some boundaries.  I couldn't spend the rest of my career being lectured

on a daily basis.

"I guess what it comes down to is how bad you want me to apologize.  I

refuse to suck up to Dennis Coakley."

"You are so off base.  This is not about Coakley, it's about your

respect for me and the authority of this office.  I asked Dennis what

time you hauled him over for the pissing match.  You went straight from

here to Lesh's.  You didn't listen to me at all yesterday."

"You're forgetting the part where I went off on my detective about the

polygraph request and then called you to make sure everything was

fine."

"See, only you could turn that phone call into something that helps you

here.  You didn't mention anything about Coakley, did you?  It's always

bits and pieces of information from you, Sam, and it's getting old."

"OK, so maybe I could have mentioned it to you then while we were

talking," I conceded, "but I won't apologize for what I did to get

those files.  It was important, and Coakley was being an ass."

"Well, at least you recognize that it wasn't exactly masterfully

executed internally."  We were finding just enough common ground for

our egos to cling to as we brought the conversation down to a calmer

level.  "I don't know, Sam, maybe I put you into this a little too

quickly.  I called Lesh.  He did his best to cover for you, but I could

tell he was worried about you too.  And we haven't even talked about

this press conference.  Wasn't that your ex-husband?"

I nodded.  Duncan's memory ran deep.

"I think I should pull you off," he said.  "Maybe out of MCU entirely,

but definitely off this case."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, Duncan, but if you do either of those

things, I won't want to work here anymore.  And I won't go quietly."

Whether it was because he valued my work or feared what I could do to

him in the media, the threat actually worked.

"Then here's the deal.  This is the last time we have one of these

talks.  You start thinking about the ramifications of what you do, or

you're going to have to go your own way."

"Deal," I said, with a salute.  It was as much as either of us could

hope for right now, but at least we were talking instead of yelling.

"Christ, your ex-husband?  There's stubborn, Sam, and then there's just

plain masochistic."

"Think of it this way.  I guarantee you: No way does Roger Kirkpatrick

call you to complain about this case.  It would take all the fun out of

torturing me."

"I'll take some comfort in that, then.  All right, if you're staying on

this thing, we'll need to schedule a conference with the death penalty

committee to talk about what sentence to seek."

That's right.  We've got a death penalty committee.  It's not as bad as

it sounds.  When Duncan ran for district attorney in this liberal

county, he acknowledged that he was personally opposed to the death

penalty but nevertheless promised to administer it since it was Oregon

law.  The purpose of the committee is to have the same group of

attorneys all experienced career prosecutors evaluate every aggravated

murder case in comparison to previous ones and try to achieve the

impossible: the even-handed application of the death penalty.

"I'll send out an e-mail looking for times," I said.

"They usually take about ninety minutes.  And invite the family to come

an hour after we start.  I guess we'll need to go through the husband's

lawyers now that he's represented.  And, remember, I don't care what

your ex did to piss you off.  Be civil."

I worked like a fiend all morning so I could run off some of my

resentment at noon.  I changed into my workout clothes in the

eighth-floor locker room and was warmed up by the time I got to the

river.  I decided to bump it up from my usual flat three-mile loop

along the Willamette and did a five-miler around the west hills

instead.

I slowed to a jog after a brutal half mile up a steep incline.  I was

out of breath and wishing I'd brought a water bottle when I realized I

was just a couple of miles from Susan Kerr s house.  I decided I had

time for a short detour.

I recognized the Expedition in the driveway with the OHSU parking

permit.  My immediate reaction was to wonder what Townsend was doing at

Susan Kerr's in the middle of a workday.  Then I realized he wouldn't

be back to work this soon after his wife's murder.  So how suspicious

was it for him to be here?  The two of them did, after all, have a

friendship through Clarissa and were both stomaching the same loss.

Maybe they were talking about Jackson's arrest.

Remembering Duncan's ultimatum, I held off on interrupting them and

decided to add Townsend's visit to the list of things I needed to

discuss with Susan Kerr.

By the time I made it down the hill, into the courthouse, and out of